Of course, the noble and intelligent braised pork rice was utterly despised; the little girl was a typical opportunist, beyond saving.
So, it pecked the little towel's head hard, then flapped its little wings and flew to the window on the second floor of the Wen family's house, shaking its little head and calling out "Aheng, Aheng," as if someone had taught it.
Looking at the braised pork rice, Wen's mother couldn't help but laugh. She dragged Yan hope, who had come to find her with a livid face, and said, "Look, look, the little guy is almost a spirit."
Yan hope sneered, twirling his wings, and threatened in a low voice, "I'll stew you sooner or later."
The braised pork rice looked at him; his small, dark eyes were glistening with tears.
Ah Heng, Ah Heng.
It cried pitifully, but Yan hope remained indifferent, nodded to Wen's mother, and said, "Auntie, I'll go back first. Chu Yun is still waiting for me."
Wen's mother said, "You're so busy all the time, you don't have time to take care of braised pork rice and Little Grey, why don't you let me raise them..."
Yan hope smiled and said there was no need for such trouble. Chu Yun liked them very much and often brought them to her home to keep.
Wen's mother was relieved; that was good.
The days passed by at a leisurely pace, and as their relationship deepened, the Lunar New Year of 2003 was fast approaching.
Chu Yun's hometown is not in City B. He plans to go back to his hometown to visit his parents for the Chinese New Year. Before leaving, he pestered Yan hope and played until very late.
At the bar, Chu Yun drank quite a bit of alcohol. Perhaps because the mixed liquors were too varied, even Chu Yun, who had an excellent alcohol tolerance, got drunk.
Yan hope was sober, but had no choice but to drive the drunkard home.
Chu Yun sat in the back, singing and making a ruckus, occasionally opening the car window to vomit. Yan hope drove, stopping and starting frequently, causing quite a commotion along the way. Finally, he got angry—"You sit still and don't move!"
Chu Yun, his eyes glazed with drunkenness, gave a salute, his voice slurred—YES, SIR!
Then, his head drooped, as if he had fallen asleep.
Yan hope rubbed his temples, turned the steering wheel, and drove for half an hour before arriving at Chu Yun's building.
He dragged her up to the third floor, took the keys from her handbag, and with great effort dragged her onto the bed before finally letting out a sigh of relief.
As I stood up to leave, my sleeve was grabbed.
She opened her eyes, looked at him quietly, and said, "Don't go."
Yan hope raised an eyebrow—You're not drunk?
She knelt on the bed, gently wrapping her arms around his neck. She said, "Yan hope, don't go. And don't... wait anymore. You won't get her back."
Yan Xixiao—Who am I waiting for?
She said, "Yanxi, you don't love her, you just can't let go. Yanxi, she's no longer the child who needs your protection. She has her own happiness, you know? From the moment you left her, it was destined that you would lose her forever."
Yan hope's eyes blurred, and her words were like a sharp knife.
It pierced deep into a rib, dripping blood.
Her eyes were filled with pity. She didn't speak, but lowered her head and kissed his lips, cheeks, and chin, showering him with tenderness, affection, and passion.
A signal light flashed and a bell rang from the suit pocket close to his chest.
She took it out, but there was no number, only a time reminder.
I answered the call.
"Well, do I really have to say it? Okay, Yan hope, goodnight."
The first time she heard this voice, it didn't belong to cold, mechanical sounds.
A soft, sweet voice came from the phone.
Quiet and peaceful, warm yet helpless.
She looked up, and Yan hope's eyes were filled with something she couldn't understand.
She really didn't want to call it...gentle.
She reached out, her fingers trembling, wanting to replay the video, but Yan hope snatched it from her hand, pressed the right button to end it, and put it back into her heart.
Turning around, the woman was in tears.
Yan hope looked at her, calmed himself down, and said, "I'll take you to the airport tomorrow. You've had too much to drink, so get some rest."
She threw pillows, lamps, and everything else she could pick up at him.
She choked up—"I finally managed to win the chance to love you from Lu Liu. Do you even know that? Do you even know that?"
Yan hope looked at her and sighed—I know.
She shook her head, tears streaming down her face—you don't know, you don't know how much I don't want you to live such a hard life, you don't know how hard it is to love you.
Yan hope spoke softly—"I'm sorry."
She said, "Go away, I don't want you anymore." Yan hope, get out, get out!!
Yan hope looked at her quietly and said calmly, "There are hangover medicines on the table. Don't forget to take them."
She burst into tears and, after a long while, finally murmured something.
Don't worry, I won't let Lu Liu know how much you... miss Wen Heng.
Yan hope's throat was dry. He nodded, bowed, said "thank you," turned around, and left.
He sat in the car, and outside the window, the snow was falling heavily.
Hugging his knees, looking at the snow, he laughed, tears streaming down his face—"What's so great about you? There are plenty of people who can cook ribs better than you, and they're men. There are plenty of women who are prettier and more lively than you, and there are even female anchors who speak better Mandarin than you. You're just Wen Heng, what...good about you?"
Who the hell cares about you?
Only a fool would wait for you.
Only a fool would miss you.
Playing the phone over and over again, the voice was so gentle, "Yanxi, goodnight."
Goodnight, Yanxi.
Chapter 73
Chapter 73
He planned a trip, alone, departing at the end of the year for a full seven days.
Before leaving, he promised Aunt Wen that he would go back to the Wen family home for the New Year.
She must have been afraid that he would feel even more lonely facing the entire white building alone on a day meant for family reunions.
Yan hope laughed. What's the big deal?
I often feel that the death of Uncle Wen was a devastating blow to the person who was like a mother to me.
She asked him about his schedule, and Yan hope said he was going to travel south.
The desolate eyes were looking at him.
Yan hope sighed and gently hugged her—Auntie, there's more than just one city in the South, don't worry.
He lowered his head slightly, his slender fingers tracing his hairline, and spoke calmly—Auntie, please don't force me anymore.
That huge pink bag had been abandoned for a long time.
As Yan hope packed his luggage, he felt inexplicably happy and excited, like a child on a spring outing. It seemed like he hadn't felt this relaxed in a long time.
I put Tagore's Stray Birds in the pocket of my oversized coat, but on the plane, all I remember is sleeping wrapped in a blanket.
I woke up, looked at the pretty flight attendant, and whistled softly, genuinely admiring her, but forgetting my frivolity.
He said, "I drink coffee, no sugar, no creamer, thank you." ^_^
Then, I watched with amusement as the flight attendant brewed the coffee again with a sour face.
The baby in the arms of the young mother next to me was crying loudly and wouldn't stop, drawing disapproving glances from other passengers.
The young mother, holding a baby bottle, looked troubled and asked Yanxi, "Could you hold him for me? He's hungry. I need to make him some milk."
Yan hope was stunned for a moment, then smiled and said okay.
With both hands, carefully, yes, like this, support him.
The young mother gave the instructions, took the baby bottle, and left.
Yan hope held the soft, tiny body, her fingers stiff. She lowered her large eyes to meet the baby's gaze. The baby saw those big eyes, so big, so very big eyes... "It's not Mommy! Waaaaah, Mommy, Mommy..."
Crying my heart out.
Yan hope made funny faces, crossed his eyes, puffed out his cheeks, and teased the doll.
The baby kept crying, her nose and eyes all scrunched up, looking so wronged and pitiful.
Yan hope ⊙﹏⊙, if you cry again, I'll eat you up.
The young mother jogged over and put the pacifier into the baby's mouth.
Glug glug.
The baby stared wide-eyed, sweating, his clear black and white eyes blinking rapidly. He forgot to cry, let out a burp, giggled, and reached out his little hand to grab his hair.
Yan hope = =.
Remembering the Cadbury chocolates in my pocket, I took them out, unwrapped them, and placed them to the doll's lips.
The little baby licked and laughed, and drool dripped onto Yan hope's finger. Yan hope laughed—"Why do you laugh so much?"
The young mother also smiled—his nickname is Xiaoxiao (meaning "smile").
Yan hope held the doll and pondered – Hmm, when I have a son in the future, I'll name him Wahaha, so he can laugh every day.
The mother laughed loudly—"Your child will cry later."
Yan hope handed the doll to his mother, folded his hands behind his neck, smiled faintly, and closed his eyes—it seemed that life was worth looking forward to.
Of course, as it turns out, years later, when he was holding his doll and shouting "Wahaha!", the little kid basically ignored him. He would just stare at the new toy in his hand with his big eyes, poking it, poking it, and if he thought it was fun, he would hug and kiss the toy, and hug and kiss his dad who was holding the toy; if he didn't think it was fun anymore, he would spill it on the ground, wobble over it, and disdain it.
He went to many places, following the paths he had walked many years ago.
Dock, plum blossoms, fishermen's houses, blue waves, black water, small town, city god temple.
He ate the white sugar cake he had eaten many years ago, and saw a child wearing a tiger-head hat and the Lin family tofu shop with his handwritten calligraphy that was already stained.